After the End
by jeeno2
Summary: On their 15th anniversary, Peeta reflects on his time on the rooftop with Katniss before the Quell. Fluffy one-shot, written in response to the PromptsinPanem prompt, "One last day."


She's so beautiful when she's sleeping, Peeta thinks to himself.

Not that Katniss isn't always beautiful. But something about the way her entire body relaxes in slumber – the way the worries of the day seem to melt away with every relaxed breath she takes – always fills him with an indescribable tenderness.

Even after all these years.

Peeta gazes at his wife's naked, sleeping form for another long moment, gently brushing her hair away from her face. He is torn, he realizes, between rousing her to resume their earlier activities and letting her enjoy this rare late-afternoon nap in peace.

Ultimately deciding on the latter course of action, Peeta gets out of bed and stretches languidly. He puts on one of the two bathrobes hanging in the hotel bathroom and opens the door to their balcony.

He steps outside into the cool, breezy, ocean air, breathes deeply and sighs.

They've been coming to Four to celebrate their anniversary for fifteen years now. When they first decided to take an annual trip to commemorate their toasting, Four seemed the logical choice. Despite the horrors that faced them the first two times they had seen the sea – the Victory Tour; and, later, the Quell – they both associate the rhythm of the waves with a quiet sort of peace that neither of them can really explain.

And, as Katniss tells him every year at this time, the sea reminds her of how she felt when she first realized she loved him. Even if she didn't know, then, how to put it into words. Peeta can't think of a better reason to come to Four every year than that.

Of course, those first few years they really didn't _see_ much of the sea during their annual visits here, their near-constant and overwhelming physical need for each other only heightened by the newness of the location and the lush smell of the ocean air surrounding them. On those early trips they barely left their hotel room at all, interrupting their lovemaking only for the occasional bite to eat from room service and a few hours of exhausted slumber.

Their trips to the sea are different now. Their passion for each other has not cooled, but the desperation that fueled this passion in their youth has. They have all the time in the world to love each other, now, and over the course of years they have learned how to accept that. They still spend much of their time here wrapped in each others' arms, but now, more than anything, they view this time away as a chance to regroup, a precious opportunity to reconnect as partners as well as lovers.

After gazing at the sea for a long moment, Peeta sits at the little table facing the water and closes his eyes, letting the ocean breeze caress him

gently. He opens his eyes when he hears Katniss come up behind him, wearing a matching robe and carrying a bottle of sparkling wine in one hand, two wine glasses in the other.

"Care for some?" she asks, gesturing to the bottle and taking the seat next to his.

He turns to her and smiles.

* * *

It's a beautiful evening, the setting sun casting vibrant pinks and oranges on the water, and Peeta hates the idea of missing it. So they decide to have dinner delivered to their room again and they eat it together on the balcony.

After they've finished with dessert, Katniss turns to him and says she wishes they could live in this moment forever.

Peeta looks at her a long moment before speaking. "I said that to _you_ once before. Real or not real?"

He doesn't need to play this game very often anymore. And he knows it was real. But he wants to hear her say it, wants to relive with her one of the very few happy memories from that time in their lives.

"Real," she says quietly, her elbows on the table now, chin resting on her hands.

He'd been ready to die for her then, he can remember, as the sun set behind them in a different place, in what seems, most days, like it must have been in a different life. She had been resting her head in his lap, dozing as the day drew to a close, as he desperately tried to memorize every detail of her face, her beautiful body, her hair, every detail of that perfect last day together. Because he had known that that sunset they were sharing would be his last.

But he had, of course, been wrong.

She crosses over to him now and sits in his lap, undoing the belt of her robe as she does it. He feels a slight flush rise on his cheeks as she nestles closer to him, her now bare chest pressing against his, even though he knows no one down on the beach would be able to see them at this height even if they wanted to.

She reaches down between them and takes him in her hand, gently guiding him to her center, the gesture so intimate and yet so familiar to them after so many years together. Despite its familiarity Peeta knows he will never tire of this, and he gasps, like he always does, as he enters her.

She begins to move over him slowly, yet purposefully, her tongue drawing lazy circles at the junction of his neck and shoulder. He sighs and draws her closer to him, his hands resting on her backside, his body rising up to meet hers.

As Katniss begins to increase her pace she turns her head slightly and whispers in her ear. "I want to make a baby with you, Peeta. I'm – I'm ready."

Peeta stills her movements with his hands and looks in her eyes. "Wh-what? You… you _what_?" He is thunderstruck. They've discussed it over the years, just a few times. But her answer has always been the same. And despite how badly he has always wanted this he's never pushed.

She smiles down at him and kisses him so tenderly it makes his heart ache. "I'm ready, Peeta. I… I am. I want to have your baby." She nods. Smiles again. Tears begin to form in the corners of her eyes.

Peeta gives a hoarse cry then and grabs her by the waist, thrusting into her again and again and again in joy, in ecstacy, in disbelief that after everything he is here in this moment, right here, right now, with this wonderful, amazing woman. With the future mother of his children.

It doesn't take long at all before he comes apart underneath her straining thighs – _just like a teenager_, he chides himself later – the vivid sunset in the distance the only witness to their happiness.

After, as they try to catch their breath, he wraps her up in his arms and gathers her to his chest.

He kisses her neck and asks, very quietly, "Are you sure?"

"As sure as I'll ever be," she tells him, with a small breathless laugh. He stiffens slightly. "Yes, I'm sure," she clarifies, hastily, but emphatically, an attempt to reassure. She leans up and kisses him slowly, tenderly.

They gaze together at the pink and orange horizon, stretching before them in every direction. From where they're sitting, it looks like forever.


End file.
